


little by little, we meet in the middle

by virgomoon (cornucopias)



Category: Andromeda Six (Visual Novel)
Genre: Damon POV - Freeform, F/M, Gen, canon compliant till chapter 4, character study of sorts, past damon/alisa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-16
Updated: 2020-07-16
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:47:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25145680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cornucopias/pseuds/virgomoon
Summary: he learns to let go.
Relationships: Damon Reznor/Alisa Armbrust, Damon Reznor/Traveler
Comments: 4
Kudos: 22





	little by little, we meet in the middle

**Author's Note:**

> damon blushing so much in chapter 4 induced in me a fugue state where I just floated around trying to make sense of everything. this is the result of that.

damon reaches for the last batch of cookies on the tray he'd left near the sink as the fifth currently bake in the oven. clarisse had told him she needed the second oven for her cake, and he wasn't about to argue. what with the way she'd started completely ghosting the crew after their little tryst earlier, he knew the best way to deal with this was to give her space, figurative and literal, and lots of it. and time. it's not like anyone knew how much of space and time one had in their lives, unless they were _really freaking old_ , but not knowing meant knowing to take things slow, take things properly, as they came. one day at a time. one moment at a time. 

clarisse was currently working at the kitchen countertop, back turned to damon, cake freshly out of the oven. he moved to get his last batch in but suddenly came in contact with fragrant skin. lavender, he recognized despite himself. it flinched and hurried away immediately, back turning again. damon fought to contain a sigh. "did you need something?"

"no, i-" quick, short breaths. alisa had taught him a couple of breathing exercises back when they were kids and damon unable to control his anxiousness, moments where his body just gave up and freezed. it had been the worst thing not being in control. and they suddenly sprang to his mind, to the tip of his tongue. before they could leave his mouth, however, "i just needed the plate i left..."

handing over the plate quickly, careful, not to accidentally look at her, "you meant this? inside the oven?" 

"mmhm"

back to back again. the final batch finally within. damon didn't even know why he was baking so much, all he knew was bash appreciated the chocolate ones and he had twenty of those, ryona liked gingerbread and there were ten, because she believed in moderation, whatever that meant. the captain was always the tough cookie but he appreciated a basic chocolate chip, and damon had about five. was he missing something? no, he'd made enough raisin and nut for ayame and june, he just needed to check if...

"damon?"

he turned his head slowly, eyes deliberately neutral even though he felt like he should widen them. he felt like widening them. alisa hadn't taught him facial muscle control for nothing. clarisse looked like she wanted the floor to open wide up and swallow her. he wondered why she was trying so hard. "yeah?"

"thanks". now he really couldn't help his eyes widening.

"for the plate?"

clarisse let a snort of annoyance through, only to fight it and exhale slowly. he felt like chuckling immediately, but knew better than to indulge in friendly behaviour that might freak out the princess. he knew better.

"yes, for the plate." and with that, she took her cake and hurried away. presumably to share it with bash and ayame, he'd heard them discussing the cake. he was about to turn back to his cookies and take stock of whether he had enough of everyone when he noticed what she'd left behind. a slice of banana coffee cake. spoon already carefully arranged. he understood, even though he didn't want to. finally, he allowed himself to sigh. 

* * *

he'd been eager to get to cursa, not excited, just eager. he'd suspected when oppo talked of a her that they were going to meet alisa, but seeing her was wonderful just the same. try as he might he couldn't get excited even for something as rare as the chance to meet her. it was something to look forward to, without attached expectations. in his head, alisa laughed at that. "keep telling yourself that, catboy." it was the ghost of something heavy that followed him everywhere. he'd noticed clarisse staring at him when calderon had announced their plan to go to cursa, so he was sure she would've noticed the expression he'd been making. 

it was always a thrill to damon to know he was always in control of how he looked. even when he wasn't in control, he knew how he looked. that self awareness was helpful. it was like chess, mapping out your move knowing what the other was doing, or about to do. games and endless games. once alisa had asked him if he wasn't tired of games. he'd only stared at her, and she'd broken out in a rare, brilliant smile. the coming of a dawn. "i can't stop with my games yet, damon, but you can. you're about to leave anyway."

that had hurt. "i know i'm leaving, but could ya not remind me at every possible moment?" he'd wrapped an arm around her torso, nuzzling into her bare chest. her fingers kept scratching his scalp gently. the other hand on his back, drumming against warm skin. he blushed despite himself. 

"so cute. damon," he'd turned his head up to look at her. her legs had been draped across his torso, locking him in place, a weight he was used to and liked. a warmth he felt safe in. staring at her now, her smile turned into something softer, mellow. a dawn rising, spreading its glow across vast spaces. illuminating everything. it made his heart ache. "you can leave. you should leave." 

"should?" this vulnerable, the hitch in his voice was an open wound. 

"you know what i mean." alisa kissed his forehead, then let her face stay buried in his hair. 

damon knew, but that did not mean he wished to understand. he'd never wish to understand. there is a set of rules that always comes with knowing, all of them ending with _now that you know, you can never do this the same way again._ now that damon knew he had to leave, he would never get to be the same way with alisa again. he understood that. despite himself, despite the fact that this was home, despite everything, he knew he wanted to leave. understood the need for it. 

apparently alisa did too. the woman had always understood him better than he did himself, or anyone else. the only person responsible for the way he'd turned out, despite what they'd say. it wasn't the lives he'd taken, the deaths he'd been privy to. it was this woman, it always had been.

now as damon saw his crew interact with her and her team, saw her size up clarisse as a pretty little harmless thing, saw her finally turn her full undivided attention to him as the crew split up, he saw an old friend, ex-partner, expert on a hundred sordid (depending on your definition of it) things, and family. he smiled. 

"looks like you're back, catboy."

"for the time being."

"it's good having you back for the time being."

the hint of tension remaining in his body left completely as everyone around him fell to work, and he saw himself as he is spanning out in front of him, from childhood to his twenties, all the product of this woman in front of him. 

something settled in his bones.

* * *

the only people ever able to make fun of him only ever said you like them big, unable to go beyond that because damon would have cornered them and made them remember prayers they might have never said before in their lives. it was fun for him, watching people try to get under his skin but him getting under theirs instead. 

yes, he'd roll his eyes inwardly, i like them big. a wolfish grin directed at the person teasing. "should i have you in my bed tonight instead?"

the world was his oyster. he wanted to take a bite of it all. circumstances dictated that he did it as an assassin, but that didn't make anything any less fun. he dealt with everything as it came, one moment at a time. he liked his job, liked being good at it, and he knew he was excellent. his stint aboard the andromeda six was crazy fun, even if tedious at times. even if the crazy could be separated from the fun sometimes. whatever, he was here for a good time. besides, alisa had taught him better than simply abandoning those that needed him, or those to which he owed something. he owed calderon big time.

anyway. damon didn't have a type, although he did like them big, but that didn't mean he was averse to the options at hand. one memorable night had him having the craziest time with ayame, who was increasingly getting louder as they moved in tandem, skin slapping on skin. it had felt good, a great distraction from not sleeping. additionally, it had been fun to tease calderon about it. 

"hey ayame, i wonder how your partners get on with you when you're so loud in bed. don't you tear their eardrums apart?"

"oh i don't always have my mouth uncovered."

"maybe next time we should try that."

"maybe _next_ time," fingers pinching his forehead, calderon rasps angrily, "you should _not_ discuss your sex life in the captain's cabin."

in comparison to the fun of teasing their captain, the sex had seemed like an afterthought. at least that's what it became to damon. ayame was chill about it anyway, he wouldn't have done anything if she _wasn't_ chill. 

no, damon was never averse to the options at hand. he respected boundaries, alisa had taught him better than not to. growing up surrounded with alisa meant harbouring a deep disgust for sleazy scumbags. 

damon did not have a type, but he knew many others did. and he knew that he was a type for many of them out there.

which is why he'd been certain when clarisse did not shy away from him from the first moment she saw him, when she kept sending lingering glances his way, hanging back to be with him instead of the others for protection, choosing him over the captain... he'd been certain she'd wanted to find her way into bed with him.

which, fair enough. he wasn't the worst looking, he knew he had sex appeal. the stowaway was a bit too permanently deer-caught-in-headlights for his liking, but her short silver hair made it endearing. not that it was a word he'd ever reveal to her.

when they found out who she really was, he'd only paused a moment to be sorry they'd not get to get their chemistry over with, before suggesting what he'd thought was obvious then to the crew. the world was his oyster. there was too much remaining to be done. his first priority was to his crew. in his head, he couldn't imagine alisa approving for some reason. though he'd think she would approve him _sticking_ by his people. 

bash had gone cool on him for a while, ayame a little quiet. he didn't understand the fuss, although he did understand what he'd done and so he had given clarisse her space. and time. lots of it. 

he wouldn't say he regretted the loss of those wide gray eyes on him, following him. but if he was being honest to himself (in his head, alisa scoffs), rather than regret, he feels something close to wistfulness. in his head, alisa pats his head. 

* * *

it's been a while since vexx came on board, and damon isn't sure why clarisse ever liked carrot head. as a friend, or whatever it is they had between them as evident from the eyefucking that goes on whenever they aren't trying to emote everything they possibly can through their eyes. while he's apologised to her, even underwent the experience of her arms around him, he knows clarisse is still wary. whether it is of him or of the situations she's constantly thrust in, all he knows is that he can't help exclaiming his anger when clarisse announces the relationship she shared with vexx to the crew, but she can still be wary of his presence. he knows better, he knows she's just nervous. for the first time in a while, he feels like he's failed to get a read on someone. he itches to contact alisa. 

in his head, the conversation goes like this. 

_so she's not entirely warmed to you yet. what's the problem?_

_ya know it ain't like that. i thought she wanted to be with me, why the trepidition?_

_i know you better than that catboy._ alisa smirks. _you don't think with your dangly bits. do you honestly think all the princess wants is to get in bed with you?_

_i don't want to think about it._

_sure you don't._ this is the part where she pats his head. _when you're ready to think about it, give me a call. remember our secret line._

_how could i forget._

he doesn't contact alisa. he folds up this line of thinking in the palm of his hands, smirking as he enters the room vexx is residing in, hands no longer bound but bereft of all weapons, room as bare as a makeshift interrogation room can be aboard the andromeda six. 

"what brings you here?" damon can see this question is not posed with venom, he's heard the others discussing how little sleep vexx gets. his nights are spent in agony, screaming endlessly. he refuses the medicine ryona offers. right now the carrot head looks like shit, the ugly bags under his eyes indicating what his voice souds like. he's the definition of tired. 

"just wanted to see my old friend."

vexx scoffs. looks up from behind his hands. "friend? to what do i owe this pleasure then, _friend_? don't think i didn't know what you used to say about me when we were working together on goldis."

damon smiles. it obviously does not reach his eyes, and vexx notices. good, damon thinks. "my work is easier then. don't do anything to harm anyone on board, and you'll live. that's all." smiling even wider, he turns to leave.

"a warning? that's what you came here for? don't think i don't notice the way you look at the stray you've let on board. the pest." damon doesn't turn around, so he hears rather than sees the immediate agony insulting the princess puts vexx in. it's bizarre, the way he'll rush to insult her, but then immediately keel over head in his hands; damon hopes alisa will contact the crew soon. he needs his suspicions confirmed.

"yes, our pest." damon keeps his tone light, flippant. something is heavy in his chest. he knows how he looks, sounds, feels. in control of everything, he slowly turns around to face vexx, who's looking up disparagingly from his hands. "the one you betrayed, fucked around with and then left. she's not sleeping any better now that you're here, thanks by the way."

he feels rather than understands the heat to his voice, in his head, coming. anger is irrational and not suitable at all, not suitable at all for damon. the world is his oyster. there are too many things to do. people to protect. before doing anything stupid like storming out of the room, letting his face break in the fury he feels he might be suppressing, he tosses a container at vexx. 

"sleeping pills. you know me more than anyone else on ship, so you understand i'd not try to kill you. take them. you've never looked uglier, carrot head."

  
with that, he allows himself to storm out of the room. 

* * *

the kitchen is the busiest it's been in a while, as the entire crew is gathered there. damon had been tinkering with the oven and kneading new batches of dough, content to be alone. this hubbub is killing him. 

"yer killing me!" he whiningly voices.

"shut up damon, you're not gonna die," ayame sing-songs at him. he huffs out a breath. they're busy playing uno and eating his cookies. he reckons they'll finish his entire batch today. ayame had challenged cal to a match, and the competitive buffoon that he is, he got reeled in like a fish. he's guffawing as ayame has to pick up card after card. damon smiles to himself as he kneads in more garlic into the dough, picking up the cursa edition of uno was going to be worth it, he'd thought, and he was right. of course he was. 

bash and ryona are giggling as they watch nearby. holding hands, as if everyone isn't trying their best not to comment on it. clarisse sits besides ayame, helping her play, nibbling on her cookies. clarisse and him weren't on talking terms when he'd made them, so he hadn't taken into account what her favourite type were, but he's glad to see double chocolate chip was a good decision, even if entirely his. the cookies disappear rapidly. 

sighing quietly to himself, he continues to knead. out of the corner of his eye he spots clarisse slipping away to join bash and ryona, only a little far off. through cal and ayame's competitive uno-ing, he can still pick up on their conversation. 

"have you been sleeping well, riss?" damon will never understand bash's penchant for such stupid nicknames. that fuckin' _rhymes_ with piss. 

"yeah, thank you." 

"you don't have to thank me for my job, clarisse." he can hear even if not see, ryona's smile. "you sure you don't want to see that hectic match? bash and i were just talking about our favourite books."

"of course mine are all about machines," bash's grin is too blinding to miss even from the corner of his eyes.

clarisse huffs a little laugh. how long has it been since her last? usually she just smiles at damon when they're together, she's been too skittish around him lately. he, too unsure. "yes i'm sure. they've started growling at each other, ayame's deliberately goading the captain on. definitely do not want to be near them right now."

"suit yourself. i think my favourite genre would be non-fiction. i like learning about the flora and fauna of each system we frequent. you'd have found the flowers of our planet interesting clarisse."

"what about me?" damon can hear the pout and it makes him want to fling the dough in his hands at bash's chest. 

"you'd have loved the animals, you fool." this added softness to ryona's voice. this moment, damon knowing the lovebirds are looking at each other in a way that designates bash isn't the only fool. 

"um," clarisse sounds amused, damn right she is amused, "my favourite books were always about travel."

here, the lovebirds have the decency to quit looking at each other and appear interested in what clarisse is saying. damon stops kneading for a moment. just a moment. he'll hear this, and move on. 

"oh? travel?"

"yeah. i wasn't really allowed to leave my quarters or our palace, and even though i'd sneak out with, well. you know. even then, i still desired to see more. it's like a need. i need to see more. that's why i really like books that describe other places, talk about journeys. i even like non-fiction like you, i would love to read about the plants of your planet ryona. i just like knowing."

"wow riss, wouldn't you like to know about the machines they make to enable the travel?"

giggling, and damon's attention is broken. he's done kneading, he knows this, yet he keeps staring at the dough in his hands. he thinks about his constant need to move. he thinks about alisa saying _"should leave"_ , thinks about how the world is his oyster. wraps his six batches of dough in plastic, washes his hands, leaves. he needs to see to something.

* * *

  
three knocks. 

clarisse opens the door, eyes widening to find damon. why do they always widen? 

"it's pretty late, did you want something?" 

damon sees she's changed into a simple nightrobe. it's too big on her, drowning her with the simple white cloth. her collarbones are on display. he clears his throat. thrusts his hands out.

"what's this," she begins to say, but her voice is cut short when she notices the thick leatherbound book. 

"it's an outdated encyclopedia." damon clears his throat again. "i'm sure princess's royal library must've had most of the books the galaxy can boast, even though it's not as if books are a resource people access these days." here, he lets his face morph into a gentle smile. it must be a rare occurence, he knows this as clarisse's eyes register what they see and she looks a certain way he's never seen her look before. suddenly he remembers the way he'd felt with alisa the day before he'd left to be an interstellar vagrant. 

"outdated?" is the only thing she can muster after a while. damon chuckles. 

"yeah, it's outdated. that's why it's good. before your father passed one of his innumerable decrees to alter the routes between planets, deface entire planets, before zovack did anything. there's stuff that doesn't exist anymore, but that shouldn't prevent you from knowing how stuff was before fenris or zovack fucked things up. once you're done with this i can tell you what to read about things are currently." here, another pause. another smile. he can hear clarisse's breath hitch and it does something to his chest that it shouldn't. to prevent it from spreading he wills his smile into a smirk. "or, if you want, i can tell you. i have done my fair bit of travel, even if i still have too fuckin' much left to explore. i still have way more experience than a book can relay to you, princess." 

she draws in a breath. he really should tell her about those breathing exercises. she breathes out. he wants to run his finger along her collarbones, and that thought alone is enough to make him want to bolt out of there. 

"i'd like that, i think." and now she's smiling at him softly, and it's the same thing as a dawn rising all over again. he's adrift. he's hopeless. he does his best to recalibrate himself. 

"yeah?" 

"yeah." a small giggle, despite herself. he wills himself to look away. he walks away.

"t-thank you!" he lifts up his hand lazily as he walks away. the world is his oyster. when he was incredibly young he had a series of circumstances placed upon him, then with the help of an incredible woman he came into his own. he still has too much to do, to see, to protect. 

he clutches his raised hand and brings it to his chest. breathes in. lets go. 

breathes out. he reckons it's about time to check if the dough has risen. cal loves his garlic bread, but he's thinking he'll knead some more. maybe make some more cookies. 

**Author's Note:**

> title from "honeybee" by the head and the heart
> 
>  **notes on traveller**  
>  name : clarisse  
> age: 20  
> female, a little apprehensive of her own body, because her body mass is on the more side.  
> not naïve, not entirely stupid.
> 
> thanks for reading! it's a bit all over the place, but it's unedited as of yet so hopefully it'll take better shape in the future.
> 
> also. HAPPY BIRTHDAY DAMON! my feelings for you vary from apathy to wildly in love.


End file.
